For all that Jesse Prescott had been a difficult father, Braden had had his mother, his four siblings, and his uncle Paul and his partner, Ron. He and his siblings had only recently discovered that Paul was their biological father via sperm donation. Another story for another time, he thought, wryly. But their lives would have been much different had Paul raised them instead.
Either way, though, Braden had had love and he’d had people he could count on. Willow had had no one. At least not until Dr. Jonas and his wife took her in, but by then the emotional damage had been done. She expected people to leave and kept them at a distance in anticipation. He’d played right into her expectations.
He was ready to work for his redemption.
When they arrived at the hotel, room keys were handed out. Rookies shared a room. Veteran players had their own rooms. As it turned out, he was solo, which he appreciated. Since leaving Brazil, he’d gotten used to the peace and quiet of being on his own and not sharing a tent.
As he entered the elevator and pulled his suitcase to the back, other people piled in, the last being Willow.
He didn’t think she noticed him.
“Can you press fifteen?” she asked someone standing closer to the panel, facing forward.
Braden glanced at the paper key holder with his room number written on it and grinned. The elevator stopped on various floors, and people pushed their way out until the car finally paused on fifteen. Since she was at the front, Willow walked out without looking behind her.
He excused himself, and someone had to step out for Braden to finally exit the elevator car and follow the signs to his room. As he made his way to the end of the hall, he couldn’t believe his eyes or his luck.
Willow had just pulled her key from her purse and was inserting the card into the lock in the room next to his. “Hey, neighbor,” he said, unable to hide his pleasure.
“You have got to be kidding me. Did you arrange this?” she asked as she pushed open her door, propping it with her suitcase.
“Nope. Just pure luck.”
“All of it bad,” she muttered, but he didn’t take her words all that seriously.
Did she want anything to do with him? Probably not, but he’d been there for their goodbye earlier in the week. He’d heard the hitch in her breath as he’d moved in closer. The trembling of her body as his lips touched her cheek. And when he’d stood up? The pebbling of her nipples visible through her shirt.
If it were just sexual desire he had to worry about, he could break through her walls, but he wanted more. And for that he needed to prove to her he was a man she could rely on. One who wouldn’t abandon her again.
He opened his own door and immediately caught sight of the connecting door to her room.
Things just kept getting better and better.
* * *
Of all the rooms in this massive hotel, how had Braden ended up adjoining hers? Willow glanced at the closed door that not only separated her and Braden but mocked her because it would be so easy to unlock it and knock on his side. Nope. She wasn’t doing it. This was a business weekend, and that’s how she would treat it.
After unpacking, she headed downstairs for dinner, sitting at a table with her fellow trainers and physical therapists who’d come on the trip. She was aware of Braden nearby with the doctors and some staff from the front office, but she did her best to focus on the conversation around her and contribute where she could.
After dinner, she retreated to her room, determined to get a good night’s sleep in preparation for an early game day tomorrow. She showered and changed into a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, pulling her hair into a damp bun on top of her head. To be sure she woke up on time, she set up her phone’s alarm for repeat after the first five minutes and plugged in the charging cord.
She was about to climb into bed when a dull knock sounded, and it wasn’t coming from the door to the hallway, either. She waited, and the sound came again from the room next door, and her stomach did a flip.
She walked over to the adjoining wall and placed her hand on the door.
“Willow, open up,” Braden’s deep, masculine voice called out, sounding muffled from the wall between the rooms.
She glanced down at her outfit, decided she was covered enough, drew a deep breath, unlocked and opened the door.
Braden stood waiting, wearing a pair of sweats that rode low on his hips, and there was no denying the bulge in his pants. His chest was bare and tanned, the muscles in his forearms and abs a sight to behold.